Harry Potter and the Curse of Friendship
by hermionepotter8294
Summary: The trio is in their seventh year at Hogwarts, and things are getting rocky between the friends. Well, for one, both Ron and Harry want Hermione as more than a friend, but Hermione can't choose which one she wants. And Voldemort is just making things wo
1. Chapter 1

It was back to Number Four Privet Drive, back to the bleak and dull loneliness of the summer. Harry Potter had nothing to look forward to, no reason to look forward to going back to school other than the idea of seeing his friends again. But even the thought of Ron and Hermione didn't cheer him up. If he faced Ron, he would have to face his younger sister, Ginny, who was also Harry's ex-girlfriend. And if he faced Hermione, he would face the terrible question that ripped apart his brain: did he love her?

Ever since the funeral, this was what Harry had been wondering. In his brain, he said no, but in his heart he said maybe. But what about Ginny? Didn't he still love her? Hadn't he told her that the only reason he was breaking up with her was because he didn't want her to get hurt? Well? Hadn't he?

"Stop asking questions," he told himself forcefully. "Either you love her or you don't."

Harry didn't have time to ponder this thought, however, because the next thing he knew, he was hearing his wretched uncle hollering at him to get downstairs and cook dinner. Heaving a sigh, Harry stood up and braced himself for ugly comments on how the food wasn't cooked enough or the salad was too dry. Why couldn't the Dursley's cook for themselves? That way they wouldn't have to see Harry, as he knew was their goal.

"Boy!" shouted Uncle Vernon. "I told you to get down here and cook. Do it! NOW!"

"Coming!" Harry snarled back. He clambered down the stairs, not minding the creaky ones. In fact, he found himself putting a bit more weight on them than usual, just to annoy the Dursley's.

Vernon appeared at the door. His temple was throbbing, but not as bad as it could've been. Harry breathed a silent sigh of relief at this. He squirmed past his Muggle uncle and into the kitchen. Just as he was popping his head into the refrigerator to get some milk, he heard a livid scream.

"OWLS!" came Uncle Vernon's angry voice. Next thing he knew, Harry was face-to-face with Vernon Dursley, whose fat hand was grabbing the scruff of Harry's neck. "Owls… how many times do I have to tell you, boy? No owls in this house as long as I am standing in it!"

Looking over his uncle's broad shoulder, Harry saw Pig, Ron's tiny owl zooming around the living room. "Well, actually, he's more of a rat on wings but…" Harry dropped his sentence. The temple was throbbing worse. "Look, I'm of age now in my world, so I could do anything I damn well please." He put his hand on his back pocket and drew his wand, just so his uncle got the effect of what he was saying.

It did the trick. Vernon backed away, Aunt Petunia gasped, and Dudley squealed like a pig and put his hands on his fat backside. "P-put that away, b-boy!" Vernon ordered.

"Let me read my letter," Harry said swiftly.

"Fine! Fine! Just _put that away!_" Vernon cried. He thrust Pigwidgeon in Harry's direction. The twittering owl started to peck at Harry's ear.

"Get off!" he said, shoving the owl out of his face and taking the letter.

_Harry-_

_Hermione's here. She's making me write this letter before Apparating to your house and taking you to the Burrow. Well, we're coming, so give the Muggles hell from us._

_-Ron_

_PS: (a note from Hermione) I just thought you ought to know to be packed! Love, Hermione_

Harry stared at the last words. _Love, Hermione._ Did she mean it? Or was it just some gesture that meant nothing? Looking up, Harry saw his aunt and uncle's questioning stares.

"Well?" Vernon spat.

"I'm leaving," Harry said promptly. "To my friend Ron's house. He's coming to pick me up." He smirked at his uncle's horrified look but then ignored it. He had bigger problems to think about. Neither Ron nor Hermione had told him when they were planning on coming. As Harry went back upstairs, another thought struck him.

Going to the Burrow would mean the same as if he went to school. Harry would end up facing Ginny and Hermione. _Damn it,_ he thought. _And this time, we're all going to be stuck together in the same house._

Harry rolled his green eyes and put his hand on the doorknob. Opening the door, he was shocked to see Ron and Hermione already sitting there. "How did you… I mean— how the hell did—" he was lost for words.

"Honestly Harry, do you think we'd leave you here?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah, mate, didn't you get the note?" Ron inquired, arching an eyebrow. "Why if Pig didn't send it… I swear I'm going to kill that owl some day…"

"No, Ron, it's okay. I got the note. I was just wondering why you didn't tell me when you were coming," he explained. Quickly, Harry added, "Pig's downstairs with the Muggles."

"Well, we thought we might as well come now," Hermione told him. Just now Harry noticed that Hermione had put an effort into her looks. Her hair was in ringlets and pulled back into a messy bun, and her chocolate eyes stood out even more with the eye shadow she was wearing.

"But I'm not packed," Harry said, forcing himself to stop staring at his best friend.

"Oh, we packed for you. The spell Tonks taught us really works," Hermione said.

"How is Tonks?" Harry asked, remember Nymphendora Tonks. Painfully, he was also reminded of Sirius, his godfather. "I mean, Dumbledore dying couldn't have helped her situation much."

"She's actually doing a lot better now. Mum told her that if she stopped thinking about Sirius and Dumbledore, she'd stop feeling the pain," Ron said absentmindedly. He was looking in amazement around the room. There was a television in one corner, a phone in the other. "Say Harry, sit that the telyfoned I tried calling you on a few summers ago?"

"It's pronounced _telephone,_ Ron," Hermione told him. "And yes it is."

Harry laughed. Bickering was what Ron and Hermione did best when they were together, and the most often. "Well, if I'm packed we ought to go now I suppose."

"Yes, I guess," Hermione said. "You can't legally Apparate yet, can you?"

"Three more weeks," Harry answered. He sighed. "Can you? I thought your birthday was at the end of September."

"No, I can't. Ron can," she said. "Here, grab your trunk, Ron'll grab Hedwig. Grab my hand, I'll link arms with Ron." They followed her instructions. "One… two… three…"

Harry remembered the sensation of Apparating all too well. When they had practiced at school, they had gone short distances, but still it felt like being squeezed through a tube. The feeling wasn't as bad this time, however. Harry couldn't figure out if it was because he was used to it, or because he was holding Hermione's hand. (A childish gesture, but meaningful all the same.) The next thing he knew, he was on the ground again, his feet firmly planted on the Burrow's floor. He turned around and saw Hermione looking around desperately.

"Hermione, what's the matter?" Harry asked, walking over to her.

"It's Ron. He was there one moment but gone the next!"


	2. Bed Problems

Harry stared at her. "Hermione, please tell me you're kidding." He couldn't take it in. As if enough bad things hadn't already happened, but Ron missing? That would push Harry over the edge, he knew it. Yes, he'd have Hermione, but it wasn't the same. It was much easier to turn to Ron when he had problems with Quidditch, or when he wanted to talk about girls. Hermione was dreadful at Quidditch, and talking to a girl about girls just didn't seem right.

"No, Harry, I'm not kidding," Hermione said sternly, a hint of worry in her voice.

"Not kidding about what?" came a voice. It was the voice of Molly Weasley, the slightly stressed yet always cheerful mother of the Weasley clan. She came into view, and Harry couldn't help noticing the blueish bags under her eyes and the lines that creased her face. He also noticed that she was losing a lot of weight.

"Oh... um..." Hermione stuttered. Harry could tell she was struggling to process the information. Saying it again would most likely make it more real. He shot her a look that said _I'll tell her._ Hermione returned it with a grateful but nervous smile.

"You see, Mrs. Weasley, Ron's gone." Harry held his breath, waiting for her response.

The reaction was instant. Mrs. Weasley's jaw dropped, and she let platter in her hands clatter to the floor. "My dear son," she almost shouted. "Missing!" She shook her head, as if she refused to believe it. "B-but he was with you just a few moments ago, right?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "He's the one that Apparated us here, seeing Harry and I can't legally Apparate."

"Death Eaters!" Molly shouted. "They took him! I know it!" She shot a glance at her clock, the most interesting contraption in the house. Instead of two hands that told the time, there were nine, letting them know where each of the Weasley family members were at all times. Last time Harry had been at the Burrow, it always said mortal peril. But lately, the clock had gotten used to Voldemort, so it showed their exact locations. Harry was surprised to see Ron's hand at home.

"Mrs. Weasley, it says Ron is home," Harry pointed out.

"Yes, I noticed," Molly said gravely. She turned to her guests. "What if he's dead? In his own house?"

"Who's dead where?" came another voice.

"RON!" squealed Hermione. She ran over to his tall, gangly figure and planted a kiss on his forehead. Hugging him as tight as possible, she got tears in her eyes. Pulling away she demanded, "Where were you? You scared us so badly, I thought (I mean, we thought) you were gone."

Ron had turned slightly pink when Hermione kissed his forehead. "Nope. I dropped you off and went upstairs."

"Ronald Weasley!" Mrs. Weasley's stern voice rang through the room. "How dare you scare us like that! Harry and Hermione almost killed me with that news. I didn't know where you had gone. Death Eaters! To make matters worse, it's a full moon, and you know what that means for Bill and Remus!"

Harry remembered Bill's bite from Greyback a few weeks ago. But Lupin had said that since Greyback wasn't in his werewolf form when he was bitten, it would only happen half as many times that Lupin transformed. But it was a full moon tonight, so Harry suspected Bill might transform.

"Mum, I'm sorry. It's extremly hard to transport two other people while Apparating. I was too lazy to walk back upstairs so I popped." Ron shrugged. "I didn't know it was such a big deal."

"Of course it is!" shouted Mrs. Weasley. "You know what terrible times these are!" She hugged her son. "Oh well, it doesn't matter. You're okay and that's all we care about." She shooed them off. "You've already eaten. Go upstairs, I have things to do and Fleur is here." Dropping her tone, she added, "I won't make you suffer."

Harry couldn't help grinning. "When's the wedding?" he asked.

"Oh, there won't be any wedding," Mrs. Weasley said. "She's afriad of him now, you see. I always knew she only loved him for his looks. He's actually rather charming, but if he'd only let me cut his hair!"

"But why is she here?" Harry inquired.

"Her parents died. Her sister went to thier aunt and uncle's house, but Fleur insisted on coming here." Mrs. Weasley sighed. "Oh well, it's for the best I suppose. Spit spot, go upstairs. You'll be in Fred and George's room again. With Hermione."

Harry nodded. As he made his way upstairs, he asked, "What time is it?"

"Around seven," Ron said. "I'll let you and Hermione get situated. She just got here today, as well. I have to go do a few things upstairs anyway."

"Okay," Harry answered cheerfully. Inside, he was nervous. Spending time with Hermione alone would make him face his biggest worries.

"Harry, could you help me with something?" Hermione asked, inturrupting his thoughts.

Nodding, Harry said, "Anything."

"Well, you see, Tonks was sleeping in here for a while, and she put the two beds together. She put some sort of charm on them to make them stay," Hermione explained. "I don't blame her either. I wouldn't want to sleep on a bed that falls apart." She shrugged. "Anyway, I found the countercharm, but we have to both stay it, one for each bed, and at the same time."

Peering inside, Harry saw that the two beds had indeed been put together. Another dreadful thought struck him. What if they couldn't get the beds apart? Would Hermione sleep in Ginny's room? Would Harry sleep in Ron's? Would they still sleep in this room? Harry pushed these thoughts away. Hermione was the most clever witch of their year, and if she said she found the countercharm, that meant she did, and it would work.

"What's the charm?" Harry asked.

"It's really easy," Hermione said. "Just flick your wrist like this" (she demonstrated) "and say _Incanrub_. Hopefully it will work."

"Okay, if you say so," Harry replied. "One... two... three..." He and Hermione both cried, "_Incanrub!_"

The charm didn't exactly work. What ended up happening was that Hermione's charm hit Harry square in the chest and Harry's hit Hermione. The two toppled onto the bed, Hermione on top of Harry. Hermione was laughing so hard, she couldn't get up. Harry let her lay on top of him, feeling ackward. Finally, she managed to get in control of herself, and stopped. She stood up and smoothed out her shirt. (When they had fallen it had gone up quite a lot, but luckily had not revealed her bra.)

"Sorry," she said. "That was funny. It wasn't supposed to happen. The book said it was supposed to separate the beds."

"It's okay," Harry replied. "Well? What are we supposed to do now?"

"I guess sleep with it as it is. It'll be fine. We can conjour a few pillows so we don't run into or kick each other," Hermione said.   
"If it's okay with you, I mean. We can't do anything else until Tonks comes back."

"Yeah, that's okay," Harry said.

As the two finished unpacking, they thought everything was fine. Unfortunatly, they didn't know that Ron had seen them when Hermione was laying on top of Harry, laughing. _I can't believe him,_ he had thought. _Doesn't he know how much I like her? I thought best friends were supposed to respect that about each other!_ The little voice inside his head squeaked back, _He probably does. They're friends, it's okay. Just friends._

Ron had calmed down. So when Harry and Hermione came back downstairs later, and explained their situation he smiled. _See?_ he told himself. _It was an accident! They're fine._ He hoped.


End file.
